Choke
by Simplysheree
Summary: Garrus isn't as cool with Shepard moving on as he's led her to believe and now it's all coming out. Part of the Shega series, F!ShepXGarrus, F!ShepXVega, strong language, anger, angst.
1. Not my place

**For my WiFu XD **

**You know who you are ! **

**This may or may not be a one shot, depending on what you lovely people think, there may be another chapter or so.**

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Something was wrong with Garrus, Shepard mused as James wound his strong arms around her slim waist,

"Something's wrong with Garrus." She said simply, eyes sliding up to gaze at his reflection, James' face was unreadable, mouth set,

"Si."

"You know what's wrong with him?" She quizzed stroking the back of his neck with and awkwardly twisted arm. He sighed and kissed the crook of her neck, sending jolts of desire from the point of contact, in a sharp line to her groin,

"Si. I do." He rubbed his face against hers, "But it's not my place to tell you, Lola. You go talk to him, por favor." He grunted and kissed the side of her neck again, knowing she wouldn't believe what he had to tell her. She would have to see it for herself. She sighed and nodded,

"Ok…dinner be ready soon?"

"Nah…an hour and a bit." He squeezed her hip before pushing away, "Go talk to him, Lola, but hurry back." His smile was vicious, "I want you all to myself."

She gave a wan sigh before slipping out of his sight and into the elevator. The ride was low enough to make her nervous: she considered everything that had happened recently. She tried desperately to find some small thing that could have upset the loyal, but highly proud Turian. She could think of nothing that would have affronted him, except…

No, she shook her head: that had already been discussed. And yet… as the main battery came into view, she felt a weight settle in her stomach. The doors whoosed open long before she reached them.

"Fine! Fine! Boshte'et!" Tali backed out of the small room, screaming with rage.

"Tali are you ok?" Shepard ran to her, but her friend stopped just short of her, silent as stone. Her hands clenched rhythmically,

"No, Shepard I'm not…." She sighed, "But I will be." Tali hugged her and, Lessa couldn't help but feel that her friend was forgiving her for something she had no knowledge of. With trepidation running through her body, Lessa stepped into the main battery.

It was as if nothing had just happened, Garrus was staring at the screen in front of him with single-minded concentration. The only sign of anything being amiss was that he did not turn to meet her. She coughed, causing him to jump a little,

"Lessa…" He turned to look at her, "Need me for something." His voice was soft and low. He leaned back against the console arms and legs crossed, eyes fixed on her in a way that was almost predatory. She felt a shiver of…something. Something reminiscent of what she had felt before and realisation hit: everything about him screamed that he wanted her to be staring. He wanted her full attention upon him.

"Are you drunk?" She tried to control the quiver in her voice: even now, he made her feel like an antelope under the gaze of a hungry lion. This was becoming too much like the last time, too intimate, too…much. He let out a throaty chuckle,

"And what if I am? Huh?" His mandibles flared in a smile, he used his hip to push off the panel at stalk towards her, "Are you going to court marshal me, commander?" The last word was like a whiplash, she flinched as he turned away.

"James says that there's something bothering you…?"

"I bet he did." There was a cold, cruel edge to her best friends voice now, "I bet he did." That was it,

"What the hell is your problem Garrus?" She spat, "You're acting like an asshole! Tali barely looked at me when she left here!"

"You!" He spun faster than she had thought possible, roared that one word like he could wound her with it, "You are my fucking problem Lessa! You, or rather who you're fucking is my problem." And there it was, it was all out there, even though she tried desperately to ignore what it meant,

"But I thought you liked James!"

"I do." He tilted his head, moving towards her with purpose, "Just not when he's got his hands on you." She couldn't deny the meaning now,

"I don't understand." She was like a caged animal, trying desperately to get away from her captor, not wanting to know anything, just desiring release. Garrus let out a loud snarl, "Forget it, Shepard! Just fucking forget it! Spirits!" He turned away, missing the flash of white-hot rage on her features.

"Oh, it's 'Shepard' now, is it?!" She let out a bark of laughter, "Fantastic, Garrus, why don't you just go ahead and call me commander, really transform into Kaiden Mark 2!" The words rang out like a verbal slap, she closed her eyes, willing what she said to crawl back into her mouth and die. Garrus turned slowly, his features unreadable,

"By the spirits, Lessa, tell me I did not just hear you correctly." He took one, predatory step forward, "Tell me you did not just liken me to Kaiden…Kaiden that I warned you about, Kaiden that sulked while I comforted you, Kaiden that you came crying to me about, wrapping your arms around my neck and sobbing like a child, begging me to tell you why he was so cruel, why he wasn't more like me?" She turned away,

"Forget it, Garrus." Or at least she tried to turn away, but a strong hand gripped her, inhibiting her movement, pulling her back from the door,

"No! Why don't we talk about this, huh?" He spun her to face him, pulling her against him, "I'm here, I'm listening. As usual, I'm on a fucking string here, Lessa why don't you give it a tug?" His laugh turned sour, "Spirits I hope that's what you're doing with that meathead, because you can't possibly be serious about him, can you?" He shook her, "Can you?"

"Let me go!" She threw her body forward, trying to battle her way out of this situation like any other,

"Like hell I will!" He dragged her to him again, wrapping both arms about her, "I can't get you out of my head, can't forget…I can't- hah!" he barked that stinging laugh again, "I'm hooked, but then again that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"No!" She squirmed away from him, torn between anger and hurt and a strange curling of heat. He snorted, close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck, grip strong enough to cause a shiver, a flash of memory,

"Then what do you want, Lessa?" She was almost thrown from his side, back against the wall, shaking. He was looking at her as if she had cut him, "What do you want?"

"I want…" She stepped forward, tentative, nervous, "I want my best friend back." She touched his scarred cheek, "I want you to be happy…"

"You made me happy."

Her heart shattered, tears welled,

"Garrus…" The word caught in her throat, choking her, consuming her, her shaking hand rested on his cheek still, "Oh God…Garrus I'm so sorry." She was shaking her head now, backing away from him: world heaving. She had done this, she blamed herself, she had dragged him from stability then left him alone. She had brought him back to her after omega and now she was leaving him again. Yet this time was worse, because now she was making the choice, she was choosing to leave him behind.

"I'm sorry."


	2. Choke

Lessa backed from the room with tears in her eyes, turned and fled like a whipped dog. The crew stared at her, eyes wide and shocked at the state of their commander: some tried to stop her, to ask what was wrong but she brushed past them and into the elevator, punching the button with vehemence. When the door hissed open, she swept into her quarters like a hurricane, barely noting James' absence until she was sitting on the bed: he must have gone to collect dinner from the mess. With a soft, grateful sigh, she lay back on the bed,

"EDI, lock my door to all crew members and inform me if anyone requests entry."

"Certainly, commander." EDI's voice was neutral as always, "Shall I inform lieutenant Vega that you wish to be left alone for the time being?"

"Yes, please…Thank you EDI." Shepard sat up, placing her head in her hands, mind reeling with hurt, guilt and, somewhere underneath it all, rage. James had known! How long had he kept this to himself; she remembered his words about Garrus, _I want them all to know you have someone…He's still a man…I see the way he looks at you…_ how dare he keep such information to himself. She could scream, the anger hot and stinging, suddenly shrinking because, in truth, it was not James' fault. If he had told her all of what she had discovered by herself, she wouldn't have believed him: he was not apologetic, or secretive even, about his jealous streak, his possessive edge.

She was grasping for someone to blame, when in truth there was only her: she had taken Garrus from a good job at C-sec, encouraged his 'renegade' tendencies and when she died, he had went off the rails out of misplaced guilt and loyalty. Or so she had thought. Then she had found him on Omega, saved him, cried for him when he was injured, cried to him when Kaiden had injured her. She had spent half the battle against the collectors with her head on his shoulder and somehow she still failed to save him from his own anger, his own need for vengeance. She had allowed him to kill Sidonis and that, she was now certain, had damaged him more that either of them knew. Lessa gripped the back of her neck, groaning in despair: his awkwardness, his faltering speech contrasting bold body language: she had thought it a product of his trauma, but retrospect showed that it could have been genuine attraction.

Then…there was the night before the collector base: that one crazily awkward, painfully tentative night that she had thought was _"Gee, I hope we don't die tomorrow"_ sex, or at the very least, _"Woah, I forgot I had these parts, lets see if they still work!"_ sex. And now it turned out that on his end it might have been neither, it might have been honest, simple sex driven by desire and, perhaps, a little love. And now it lay in tatters because she was too stupid to see it when it was in front of her, because even if she didn't like to admit it, she maybe wasn't open enough to considers a long term relationship with a man who wasn't even her species. Because no matter how she twisted it now: she was in love with James Vega and not Garrus and there was nothing she could do, all the time and loyalty and sentiment in the world couldn't get them back to where they were before she had slept with him. It would never be the same.

"Commander, Officer Vakarian wishes to speak with you." EDI's calm voice rang out like a bell,

"Tell him that his presence is not desired." She snarled,

"He is already hacking into the door panel." EDI somehow managed to sound pissed off, "I have informed him that further action will be taken. He appears intoxicated, should I inform Lieutenant Vega of his temperament?"

"No…Not just now EDI…." She sighed: she would hear him out, she owed him that much, if nothing else. EDI made no reply, or none that Shepard heard because Garrus was in her room, snarling and spitting like a dervish. His anger was bottomless, searing and utterly wild, she failed to understand his words, realising that he was not even speaking Galactic common anymore. He was inches from her, looming, eyes flashing with predatory instinct and, for the first time in memory she was frightened of him.

"Garrus, calm down." She whispered softly, backing away, noting with alarm that he surged forward as she did so. He gripped her arms with an iron grasp, shaking her a little before pulling her to him and effectively tearing at her last nerve. Lessa reared back and slammed her forehead into his face, following up with a knee to the pit of his stomach, "Don't touch me!" The words came out just as loud as she had wanted, but had a shrill panicked edge that made her toes curl. "If you touch me again, I'm calling James." She reigned in the panic, staring down the man that she had once thought would never, ever think about laying a hand on her in anger. He let out a slurred, humourless laugh,

"Wow, you're going to get your boy toy to kick my ass, Shep? Really?" He snorted, "Why don't you put on a dress, faint and be done with all this?" He motioned around him,

"Garrus what is wrong with you?" She pleaded, kneeling next to him, "I'm not your enemy! Or at least I never though I was! This isn't you!" She touched his shoulder, almost expecting him to lash out, flinching when he twitched. He fixed her with a look,

"What was that?" He said simply,

"What was what?" She froze, listening, fearing that the ships was in danger now too,

"You flinched." His voice was monotone, expressionless, "You thought I was going to hit you."

She couldn't deny it, so she ignored it,

"Garrus, I'm sorry if you feel like I led you on…I never meant for this to happen. I certainly didn't expect to feel this way about someone like James." Lessa sighed at sat next to her best friend, laying her head on his shoulder, "I thought I'd fall for some one intelligent and witty and level-headed, someone who could keep me calm and on kilter…." She considered her next words carefully, "Someone like you…or like you used to be." He bristled slightly,

"Used to be?"

"Yeah…" She chewed her lip, "Garrus, I'm sorry…" She looked at him, taking in every detail of his face with a heart full to bursting with love, "I failed you…I did this to you…" tears were welling up, dripping down her face, she sniffed, "I couldn't save you from the gunship, or even from yourself…."

"From myself?" He cut in, incredulous,

"I let you kill Sidonis, I let you walk down that path, I led you down it and now I don't even recognise you…" She was sobbing in earnest now, "You were the one person I thought would never change, my one constant and I've helped the world to break you…"

"But you can help fix me." He turned to her, gripping her with desperate hands, she shook her head, whimpering, "Yes, you can because I love you, Lessa and, I'll change for you. I'll work on it, I'll-"

"No." She pulled away from him, moving to sit on her bed,

"No?" The anger was seeping back into his eyes,

"No….I can't Garrus, I love James…I really do…and even if I didn't you're too…" She looked down, "You're too angry for me." There it was, "You never laugh anymore, not honestly and it's not because anyone has changed the way they treat you. It's because you've changed." The door hissed open again and James was there, panting, work-out shirt soaked with sweat,

"Ey, Lola everything ok? EDI said that-" He trailed off, looking at the blue blood on Garrus' nose, smeared on her forehead, his jaw clenched, "Dios mio, Scars, I swear, if you laid a hand on her-"

"Can it Jimmy." Garrus growled and swept past him and into the elevator, James turned to grab him,

"James, no!" Lessa flew to his side, grabbing his arm, "Please, just leave him!" A small whimper, "Just stay with me."

"I ain't going anywhere, querido." He snorted, "Fuck him. Cono, I hope he chokes on that grudge."


	3. Starlit

**Warning, this chapter is pure, unapologetic, fluffy smut! **

**Ok, guys, I'm a little stuck, so give me your vote because this will change the direction of my Shega series irrevocably! **

**It's so simple: at the end of this chapter, Lessa will be approaching a situation where she needs to make a choice for good! So who will it be? **

**James, or Garrus? **

**I'm putting this out here because I am, and have been for the past few weeks, hopelessly stuck. Give me your vote and your reason if you want to play a part in how this series turns out!**

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"James, please don't say that!" Lessa covered her eyes, feeling tears well up, "Oh God! What have I done?" She searched his face for an answer that she would never find. He shrugged, rolling his shoulders a little,

"Lola, you ain't done nothing but be yourself." He placed his big, warm hands on her shoulders and rubbed, " It's not your fault that things went further for him than they did for you. Did you try to make him feel that way?"

"What? No!" Her eyes were wide, shocked, "I would never do that!"

"Exactly." James smiled at her, leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, "You comin' to bed, Lola?" His hand was tight, a little needy on her side, it gave her a warm, slightly shivery feeling. He let his hands roam possessively over her hips and up her stomach, eventually cupping her breasts. He licked his lips a little,

"You got a sweet body, Lola…" He made a sound in the back of his throat, "Any chance I could my hands on it?" She let her eyes trail up his chest, suppressing a smile at the shudder that ran thorough him.

"Mmm, you know, I think there's quite a high chance of that." Stretching up, she pulled he shirt over her head, "But first, I'm going to take a shower." She turned on her heel, chuckling at the disappointed groan that rang out behind her.

The water was almost scalding, just how she liked it.

Lessa shuddered a little under the water, seeing all the memories of Garrus flash behind her closed eyelids. She stifled a sob for the friendship she might have just crippled, for the relationship she had never known they could have had. The worst feeling was, without a doubt, the knowledge that had such a relationship been allowed to develop, they would still be together. That she could say without doubt or fear: they would have endured and grown. Images roared in her mind: the gunship, finding him on Omega, first meeting him on the presidium, the look in his eyes as he slipped from consciousness, pleading with her silently to not leave him, not let him go.

Silently, she tried to let go of the memories and, of course, the feelings they induced. It was nearly impossible, but perhaps, in time, she thought, it would be easy. The door slid open with a huff and, for the slightest fraction of a second, she thought it was him. Five fingered hands gripped her hips eliciting a bitter-sweet mix of disappointment and desire in one heady flex. Smooth, hair covered flesh pressed against her, hardness against her rear causing a whimper as blunt teeth bit into her shoulder. She kept her eyes closed, leaning back as the two hand went in separate directions, one gripping her breast, rolling her nipple, the other slipping two disconcertingly blunt fingers between her legs. Soft, pliable lips drew her earlobe into wetness, a soft, hot tongue laving it as he sucked in, growling, but otherwise making no discernible sounds. Sensing her need for silence, Lessa sagged back, defeated by guilt and conflict. Running a hand up to the back of his head, her lips twisting in half smile, half grimace as she felt hair under her coarse palm. Pleasure was building behind her eyes and in her belly,

"Oh…G-..God." She gasped, panting now, feeling a taut line draw across her groin as she arched back, curling her toes, knees buckling. It hit her like a tidal wave, dragging her under, into silence as she was blinded by contrasting images. _Smooth, tanned skin, strong flexing muscles…piercing blue eyes, the feel of dry, warm plates…the soft murmur of Spanish in her ear… a possessive growl, almost human, but not quite_. The wave broke, "Ah! James!" She squirmed as he slipped two fingers into her,

"Enjoying yourself, Lola?" He nipped her shoulder,

"Always do…" She bit back a hiss as one hand balled in her hair, the other trailing down her back, the friction torturous against her sensitive skin, pushing her forward until she was bent at the waist. "James."

"Yeah, Lola?" His voice was hoarse with desire,

"Don't be gentle."

A blinding jolt of pleasure was the only indication that he had registered her request. The pace he set was blistering, forcing her to lock her elbows in case her arms should fail and send her face first into the wall. A hand gripped her breast roughly, the other tightening in her hair, dragging her up to his mouth,

"Say my name, Lola…"

"Ah-" For one panic-stricken moment her mind blanked, "James!" He chuckled,

"Again."

"Oh God, James."

"Again." He growled hoarsely, slapping her ass, causing her to yelp before he rubbed the affected area, large, warm hand rough on the smooth skin,

"James, please just cut the crap!" She looked over her shoulder, catching the look of surprised arousal as she reached back to grip his hip, "Please." She pushed back against him, hearing the groan of defeat: he never could resist it when she begged.

"Shit Lola, you sound sexy." He bit down on her neck, causing a moan to ripple from her as he slowed slightly, pulling away totally, "Bed, now." He swept her up, cradling her to his chest as he strode from the bathroom. He stopped for a moment, stooping a little to kiss her, she relaxed into it with a sigh. A sigh that turned quickly to a yelp as she became airborne, bouncing slight as she hit the bed, eyes locking on his. A Machiavellian smile played on his scarred lips, causing the realisation that, all things aside, he might be the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on.

"Hands up, touch the headboard." She complied, "Keep them there or I stop, Sí?"

"Yes." He prowled up the bed, kissing every inch from ankle to hip before sitting up on his knees, putting on the 'tough cop' voice that always made her melt, that reminded her of someone she had once known, "Spread 'em, Lola." She did so, but apparently not to his satisfaction, because he gripped her knees and pulled them further a part, to an angle that walked a fine line between arousal and discomfort, before slipping between them.

"Remember and keep those hands up, ey Commander?" he murmured before kissing her inner thigh. It was such a unique sensation, she thought, being kissed: so many other species had the capability to do it, but most, other than Asari generally didn't. Some were incapable, _sharp talons carefully tracing the scars on her face, hip, belly,_ she yelped as those lips closed around her, kicking her legs slightly, squeezing her thighs shut around his head, but keeping her hands on the headboard like a good soldier.

"Lola," His voice was muffled, "I know I'm good, but I wont keep being this good if I can't breath." With a loud, belly shaking laugh, she let him loose and he sat back, looking dazed but happy. Lips swollen, chin a little wet, he grinned at her, light from the stars shining through the glass panel on the ceiling, lending him a halo of silver. He made an opening motion with his hands and moved forward again, stopping to look at her,

"New rule: Hands on the headboard, feet…" he took her ankles and pulled her further down the bed, placing her feet on the bed, "…stay at least this far apart, no suffocating James, ok?" He pointed to himself with his thumbs, mocking Joker and himself all in one go, "Some people are into freaky shit, but the weirdest I'm willing to go is a blindfold and some silk rope."

"I'll be sure to try that then." Lessa chuckled,

"No, no, no, Lola, they're not for me" He bit her inner thigh gently before giving her a look that nailed her to the bed, "They're for you."

"Ok, no more games, James." She sat up, gripping the back of his neck, "Just fuck me."

"Aye, aye Ma'am."

The starlight light played tricks on her eyes, Lessa decided as she lay next to James, tucked under his arm, tracing a finger down his nose. In the silvery light, cast from above, he looked almost angelic, like a marbled god lying in a pool of molten metal. He was anything but an angel, she knew that, the minute he regained consciousness, a mischievous quirk would settle at the corner of his mouth. The hands that were twined through hers, scarred and already beginning to show the products of a lifetimes hard, bloody work, would slip from hers and seek more interesting targets. He was a good-natured devil, with a good heart and an overactive libido. She chuckled, in shot, he was just her type.

So why did she feel ill at ease, why was there a sense of guilt, of pain? Why, when she should be curled in his strong arms, taking on her own ill-gotten angelic demeanor, was she lying awake, staring at the constellations? Because some things had to be dealt with. She had though that she had dealt with all her baggage when she dealt with Kaiden. But a careers worth of impulsive decisions were come back to haunt her. Slipping from his side, she left and explanatory note, in case he should wake, though she hoped to be back by his side long before his eyes opened, and got dressed silently. Leaning over to place a kiss on his forehead, stroking his cheek lightly, she whispered an apology to him, to every person she had let down or confused and hurt. She padded into the elevator, bare feet making slight slapping sounds on the cold floor. The sigh of the closing doors was almost sympathetic, as if the ship knew and understood her in all things.


End file.
